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Soldiers are sexy. It needed to be said, so I said it. There’s just something about them… is it the camo? For shiz. The sacrificing of self for our safety? Oh yeah, big time. The short hair, muscled forearms and their very own “trigger finger”? Yum yum. "Trigger finger" just sent me into a tizzy. As if those two words aren’t enough, let’s consider their additional skill sets. They are manly men who are highly trained in operating heavy machinery – tanks, helicopters and (steady yourself) fighter planes. Strategizing through life or death situations, not just around the office water cooler, sets our service men above the rest. And being able to survive in extreme conditions - oh daddy! Soldiers even make bug eating sexy. Then there’s how they move. Oh yeah, the wall-creeping, crouched jog thing while toting a heavy gun and strapped with ammo – higgity hot. Scaling walls, climbing ropes and dropping from planes into hostile territory – hubba hubba. And belly crawling under barbed wire surely instills some agility in horizontal motion, if you know what I mean. It’s a theory I’m willing to test. When I watch movies about soldiers or see them in the news, I get worked into a proper state. Strewn somewhere between a bit turned on and a teary-eyed sap, I become an emotional wreck. Reports on rising death counts or our beloved bravest being held captive by evil Taliban mama-boys pulls on my heartstrings and, before I know it, I’m sniveling over a box of tissues. And I’m not a crier. Sappy movies, mean words and personal rejection barely elicit a sniffle. But show me a wounded soldier or a (can barely type it) flag-covered casket and I lose it. Instant hot mess. Watching and waiting for news of Pvt. Bowe Bergdahl who is being held captive in Afghanistan by those Taliban turkeys is really pissing me off. I fear for him and his family. I worry that the price he is paying for the freedom of others is too high for us all to accept. And I think he’s pretty damn cute, too. During the Gulf War, my 80+ grandma said, “It’s just a damn shame. Have you seen those boys being sent over there? There are some real lookers!” I have to say, my grandma was point on. Did anyone see Kathy Griffin visit wounded soldiers on her show, My Life on the D List? Kathy lost it. Even the most smart ass girl on TV stopped full in her tracks when she recognized what freedom cost those who protect it. Then, in the midst of all that tragedy, these guys started cracking jokes! What’s sexier than a guy who chooses to laugh in spite of his circumstances? And what men (aside from gay men) ever give Kathy Griffin a run for her money? I mean, who knew the armed forces recruited comedians? Okay, sappy part over. We’ve established there’s a place for our country’s finest in my heart. And there’s probably also one in my bed. I don’t mean I’m Ho Harbor and all sailors are welcome to dock their ship in my port. I’m a virtuous woman, or can’t you tell? I’m just sayin’, when a man in camo begins to smile my way, my panties disappear. Either they fly off or vaporize or drop instantly. I can’t be sure. I’m too busy eyeing up his trigger finger. When it comes to soldiers, I’m like a rock band’s groupie or a bull rider’s buckle bunny. I’m all starry eyed hero-worship and irrational thinking. So kill me, I’m a patriot, a sucker for soldiers. To all you soldiers out there, shoot me an email… kidding people! (but then maybe I’m not) And to all the wives of soldiers out there, your honeys are safe from me and I applaud you for landing such a stud! (Please know that I realize women are in the armed forces and are equally cool and fab… and they can kick my butt for sure. But I’m talking sexy here and, for me, that means rock hard, camo-wearing GI Joes. Sorry, soldier sisters.)
